Secrets of the Lust Potion
by Keith Summers
Summary: It all began when Hermione slipped him a lust potion so he wouldn't let his nerves keep him from having fun. Now, he just can't stop having fun with the dozens of attractive wizards throughout the Wizarding World. Fourth Year and onwards
1. The Potion

**Secrets of the Lust Potion**

 **The Potion**

Of course, it's Hermione who fixes his problems with self-esteem.

He's not the hottest guy around, he knows that much, but he's definitely not ugly either. Slim figure, great hair, and the barest definitions of muscles – damn straight, he's not unattractive, but his issue stems from the fact that he's just too shy to make a move on anybody.

It stinks, because right now, he's having to contend himself with fantasies rather than actually letting himself have some hot and kinky sex with the objects of his dreams.

So, he can't thank Hermione enough when she rolls her eyes and dribbles a few drops of the bright red liquid into his pumpkin juice that morning, and damn, it's about time. The entire Quidditch World Cup has been torture and his hormones are about to tear him apart.

The potion is like fire down his throat, but the effect is almost instantaneous. He feels giddy, as if all the adrenaline in his body is rushing to his brain, and he claps Hermione on the back.

This is going to be a lot of fun.

~HP~

He takes his first opportunity to test his new limits as soon as it arrives, but he decides to start small rather than cock it all up by trying too hard and making a fool of himself. Gryffindor tower is still and quiet. It's the dead of night, after all.

Flicking his wand to silence the other boy's bed, he slips through the curtains, taking care to pull them shut behind him. He drools at the sight before him – and even as he contemplates what he's about to do, he doesn't feel the usual panic welling in his throat.

Hermione should sell that potion to the entire damn world. She'll make a fortune.

Asleep before him, the red sheets bundled up at the base of the bed, is Ron. The ginger boy is naked save for a pair of bright orange boxer briefs, and Harry licks his lips at the evident bulge. It seems his best friend is having quite an interesting dream, judging by the damp spot near the top of the tent.

Without another moment of hesitation, he slips his hand up Ron's leg, and lets his fingers close around the other boy's semi-hard dick. It's warm and throbbing, thicker than his and yet just a bit shorter, and he lets out a low moan at the feeling. It's so new to him – and he already loves it.

He begins stroking, moving his hand up and down in long, languid movements, taking his time to soak it all in. Ron's still asleep, shifting slightly, and Harry takes the opportunity to reach out with his other hand and trace his friend's chest.

He feels bolder than usual, and though he thinks he can probably get Ron to cum without waking him, heavy sleeper that the ginger is, he lets himself be a little more brash. He pinches Ron's nipple, grinning as his friend's eyes flutter open, and instantly widen in shock. He keeps stroking though, teasing the nipple between his fingers as Ron stares, to stunned to say a thing.

Somehow, Harry gets the impression that the other boy is enjoying himself.

A grunt escapes Ron's lips, confirming Harry's suspicions, and his grin widens as he releases the nipple and slips the hand up Ron's other leg, fondling the heavy balls in his hand. Ron moans, raising himself up on his elbows and spreading his legs for Harry to have better access, and a smirk spreads across his lips.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" teases Harry, straddling Ron's thigh and rubbing his own boxer clad erection against it. The ginger just grunts his approval, before one large hand comes forward and yanks up Harry's boxers till the cotton is firmly wedged up his crack. He lets out a soft cry, his cock straining at the fabric – it hurts, and he can feel his balls chafe under the constriction.

"Always knew you were a little slut," says Ron, smirking, "Staring at us changing all the time."

Harry whimpers again as he feels his boxers yanked up again, this time causing the cotton to scrape against his virgin hole, but keeps stroking his friend. The damp spot's grown across Ron's orange underwear, and Harry can feel the excess pre-cum leaking about his fingers. Despite the constriction, his own dick seems to just grow harder, till he's uncomfortably humping Ron's leg in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

Eventually, he feels Ron's balls tighten in his grasp and before he can react, strings of cum are gushing forth from his friend's cock, soaking through the underwear and leaving thick, white globules splotching about the fabric. The sight is too much for him, and he shudders, crying out as he blows his own load over Ron's thigh, similarly soaking his boxers and smearing the excess across his best friend's leg.

He halts, panting, as his friend smirks and pats him on the cheek. The adrenaline is dying down now, but he can still feel it burning in his gut, a subtle indication that the potion is still very much present. Grinning to himself, he thinks about cleaning up the mess with his tongue, but thinks better of it – he doesn't want his first taste of cum to be from a handjob, thank you very much.

Leaving Ron to clean up the mess, he slips outside the curtains, and looks around the room. Well, he thinks, one down . . . three more to go. A quick glance at the nearest bed and the sleeping Irishman in it is all it takes for him to choose his next target.

Who knows, maybe this time he'll do more than just play around with his fingers.


	2. The Irishman

**Secrets of the Lust Potion**

 **The Irish Lad**

For the next two days, he can feel Ron's eyes on him wherever he goes. It's enough to make him grin, as clearly the other boy is eager for a repeat performance . . . but he isn't quite ready for that, not yet. He remembers the size of his best friend's shaft as it pulsed between his fingers that night, and as horny as he is, he thinks it'd be better to first accustom himself to a few average sized cocks. There's no reason for him to tear himself apart . . . not yet, at any rate, he thinks with a wicked smirk.

Some of his fantasies will take a lot of training before he can make them happen. And besides, he thinks, his gaze flitting towards a trio of Sixth Year Hufflepuffs stretching beside the Black Lake in nothing but their speedos, preparing for a morning swim, there were many in the castle who could help satisfy his cravings.

The bulges spoke for themselves, after all.

Pretty soon, he arrives at Hagrid's Hut for the morning lesson on Care of Magical Creatures, and yawns as he realises that they're going to be working with Bowtruckles, though brightens when he realises that they'll be working in pairs. It's a few seconds later before Hagrid pairs him with Seamus, and he can't believe his luck as the two of them are ushered towards one of the many tables. Thinking fast, he makes sure to choose the one closest to the forest.

"You seem tired, Harry?" said Seamus, as he began to set up their supplies whilst Harry held the Bowtruckle in place. "Been having trouble sleeping?" He winks, and Harry frowns – it seems as though Seamus hadn't been as asleep as he'd appeared to be during the last couple of nights.

Well, that just made it easier, didn't it?

He stays silent, his breath hitching whenever the Irish boy's hands flit over his body – his arms, his ass, and twice upon his cock. The lesson ends, but he's harder than he's been in weeks . . . and he decides to act tonight.

It's midnight, and Seamus is already asleep (or feigning sleep) when he climbs through the bed-curtains and mutters a silencing charm to ensure they're not heard. Harry smirks as he strips off the blankets, noting the slight smirk playing about the apparently sleeping boy's face, and curls up between the already spread legs. Harry grins when he realises that the other boy is already hard, and without further ado, he presses his face into the black boxer-briefs, and inhales Seamus' scent.

At once, he feels the thighs on either side of his head press against his ears, and Seamus' firm calves hooking around his head. He tries to pull away, caught by surprise, but the other boy holds him firm and grips his hair in his left hand. Harry bucks, his air supply thin as he tries to inhale through the black fabric, and brings up his hands to try and pull away Seamus' legs.

He pauses, the skin on his palms tingling as they come into contact with the lithe muscle rippling within the other boy's thighs, and he curses himself for not getting a better look at the Irish boy's body before diving in headfirst. Sure, he'd caught brief glances in the past . . . but he'd never been this up close and personal.

"Enjoying yourself, slut?" Seamus chuckles, "Trying to suck me off while I'm asleep, huh? Well, then, why not get your wish?" The Irish boy laughs wickedly and then yanks Harry's head away, loosening his thighs just enough to give him room to pull down his underwear with his free hand and expose his hard cock. Six and a half inches of hard flesh smack Harry in the cheek, the pre-cum smearing beneath his eye, and before he can react or respond, he feels his head being pulled back down.

He opens his mouth. Seamus thrusts.

He's not able to take in more than the head, given his position and inexperience, but he nevertheless preens under the luscious moan escaping Seamus' lips. He swirls his tongue around the head, caressing the firm, velvety organ, and it tastes of musk and salt. He hums, his lips sending sensual vibrations down the cock, and he lets his tongue flick against the slit of Seamus' cock.

The moan that escapes the Irishman's lips is delicious, and he can feel fingers carding their way through his hair, pulling on it and urging him to take in more. He tries, he does, but the most he can get in is another inch, and even that's a stretch for his untrained mouth. His lips are taut, his cheeks sucked in as he caresses Seamus' cock, and the Irishman's legs are a vice holding him in place, those taut, lithely muscled thighs clamped against his ears. His own dick is like a rock constrained within his underwear, and he wishes he could touch it but in this position, he can't reach down there.

He sucks on, breathing through his nose so as not to break the rhythm and forces in another half inch before his tongue, once more, darts against Seamus' piss slit, craving more of the salty pre-cum that's been dribbling onto his tongue.

Without warning, Seamus lets out a cry, and floods his mouth with hot, sticky seed. He tries to swallow as those firm legs squeeze his head, but gags, unable to take in more than a few drops. Cum spills out, mixed with his saliva, from the corners of his mouth and over Seamus' balls, and he coughs and gags until Seamus finally relaxes his grip and lets his head go free.

He looks up at the smirking Irishman and winks before sticking out a tongue and running it along the sensitive cock. Seamus moans, and Harry savours the taste of his friend's cum as he cleans up, lapping everything that he can to make up for not being able to swallow it in the first place.

When he's done, he looks up to notice that Seamus is already feigning sleep once more, and he sighs, realising that he's going to have to get himself off again. Then, he perks up…maybe, if he pops into Ron's bed, his best friend will be up for a mutual wank.

 _AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, next chapter is going to be someone not from Gryffindor House. I'm toying with the idea of a Slytherin, but not Malfoy, because it's Malfoy and I want to save that until Harry is trained enough to service such a stud. Please review and give me suggestions in your reviews. Also, this is the beginning of fourth year and we're going to have a lot of Triwizard Sex coming up._

 _I also have an idea for another story called "Secrets of the Lust Potion: The Apple Fell Where He Dropped It", which is about James Potter, Harry's dad, and his sexual antics at Hogwarts. I'd love to actually write James, Harry, James II and Albus all as real cock sluts, so I'd love to hear what you all think about this idea._

 _And a big thanks to all the favourites, followers and reviewers. I love you all xD_


	3. The Aristocrat

**Secrets of the Lust Potion**

That morning, he found himself on his knees in his dormitory bathroom, Ron's cock ramming into his mouth. His best friend moaned and clutched at his hair, holding him place, and he in turn held onto Ron's thighs to keep his balance. It was almost a routine at this point – he'd suck Ron off in the showers before breakfast and suck Seamus off before bed, and yet, he wasn't as sated as he'd been when he'd first begun the arrangement.

Harry wanted… and needed more.

With a heady moan, Ron came, flooding Harry's mouth with seed. Practice made perfect, though, and he was able to swallow it all without spilling a drop. As the hands in his hair loosened and the softening cock slipped from between his lips, he grinned up at Ron. His own cock was hard as a rock, the head sliding against Ron's ankle, and he wanted release.

Surely, he'd be able to get some after giving such a superb blowjob?

"Sorry, slut, but I'm starving." Ron's voice was taunting as he nudged at Harry's dick with his foot, making it very clear that he could press it down beneath his heel at any moment. For a few seconds, he rubbed at Harry's cock with his foot, before stepping out of the showers and grabbing a towel.

Harry watched him go with a sigh. It would seem he'd have to deal with himself at this point given that Seamus had already disappeared off to breakfast. Of course, he'd wanted to bring Neville and Dean into the fold so as to give him more options, but they'd already left as well. Groaning, he got to his feet and quickly realised how late it was. If he didn't hurry off to breakfast, he'd not get a chance to eat before his classes.

Looking down at his hard cock, he let out a pained moan at the realisation that he'd not be able to relieve himself until lunch at the very least. He got dressed, biting his lip as he pulled on his black boxer briefs. They were a few sizes too small, but Seamus had shrunken all his underwear just to see him squirm at the constraints.

Secretly, he quite enjoyed it, especially when he ended up sitting next to one of them in class and they got to teasing him. After all, it had only been the other night when Ron had taken notice of his smaller underwear and shrunk a pair further so that it was so tight that the entire seat of his underwear became wedged into his crack with every step he took. Still, he couldn't deny that the results of that night.

 **-SOTLP-**

It was lunch and he was all but running into the nearest bathroom. Merlin, he had been leaking precum for about an hour – the constant friction of his too-tight underwear against his already aroused cock were just too much for him, and it had been all he could do not to yank down his pants and wank right there in Charms.

As soon as he was in the bathroom, he ran for the last stall, realising that the door was a little ajar. Without thinking, he flew into it and yanked down his pants, letting his eyes slide shut as he began to jerk himself off. A low moan escaped his lips as he brought down his other hand to caress his balls, his fingers gliding over the copious sheen of precum completely coating his boxer briefs.

They were soaked, he realised with a start as he felt them against his legs, the sopping fabric cold against his skin.

"Do you always start wanking without checking to see if the stall is empty?" came a cool, clear voice, and his eyes flew open to stare at one Theodore Nott, sitting there on the closed toilet lid with his pants around his ankles and a hand steadily stroking across a seven-inch prick. Harry stands there, dumbstruck, not knowing how to react, when with a smirk the young Pureblood reaches out and yanks his sopping wet boxer-briefs from his thighs with a loud ripping sound.

"My Potter, can you even fit into these?" asked Theo, bringing the fabric up to his nose and inhaling the scent. Harry watched as the boy's cock twitched, aroused, and he felt the potion he'd taken all those days ago begin to grow bold.

"It looks like I'm not the only one who's need of a bit of relief," he retorted, gesturing at Theo's hard cock, and without waiting for the other boy to respond he dropped to his knees and ran his tongue across his lips. Balancing on just his knees, he grabbed Theo's thighs and leaned forward so that he was almost at the other's boy's prick.

"Merlin, Potter, you're a fucking slut." Theo's voice was husky and somewhat muffled, and looking up Harry saw that Theo had his ripped underwear firmly pressed over his mouth and nose. He grinned, wondering what Ron and Seamus would make of him sniffing their underwear once they were done with him tonight before he ran his tongue over the head of Theo's cock.

The taste of precum exploded across his tongue, and he let out a soft moan as he began running his tongue along the entire length of his dick, taking special care to clean off the balls. Theo was smoother than Ron, with just a light smattering of hair, and it was obvious that he shaved. Harry found this incredibly sexy.

He spent a few minutes rolling Theo's balls across his tongue before remembering that lunch break wouldn't last forever. With a sigh, he ran his tongue back to the tip and, letting his inner slut soar at the sound of the other boy's moans, he took in the first few inches. Hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, he stuck out his tongue as far as he could, wrapping it around the dick he was sucking.

Theodore began to thrust, then, taking him by surprise and slamming into the back of the throat. Harry's eyes watered as his gag reflex was activated, but he forced himself to breath through his nose as Theo began thrusting faster and faster into his mouth. Groaning, he felt his own erection aching for release between his legs and began to thrust against Theo's shoe.

The friction was almost painful as he rutted against the pureblood's suede shoe, but Theo let out a grin and said, "Yes, you fucking slut, Potter, hump my leg like a bitch in heat." Harry let out another moan and nearly came right there as he felt Theo lift his leg, if only slightly, forcing his dick to rub even tighter against the rough material.

"Cum on these shoes and I'll fucking shove it up your arse, you understand, bitch?" said Theo after a minute, and Harry mewled in frustration as his building orgasm was denied. Sticking one hand down onto his prick, he squeezed his fingers around the base to hold in his cum.

Then, Theo grabbed his hair and yanked him forward, forcing his cock in to the hilt. Harry gagged, his throat massaging Theo's cockhead, and then a burst of hot, salty cum spilled into his choking throat. Tears stung his eyes as he coughed, cum staining his lips and running out his nostrils, and he fell back onto the floor gasping for breath.

Theo smirked down at him as he came, and lashed out with a foot. It caught Harry in the chest, knocking him over so that he was lying on the floor, the cold tiles biting at his bare legs and leaving a faint shoeprint on his shirt. He made to protest, but before he could Theodore was straddling his chest. Pinning down his arms with his knees, Theo leaned around and began to jerk Harry off with the torn remains of his boxer-briefs.

He came in no time, his balls spurting three quick bursts of cum into the wet fabric, and now he was sure that it was soaked. He made to get up, but Theodore was faster, bringing the cum-stained rag to his nose to inhale again before hopping off him and lifting his legs into the air. He grinned, laying a hard smack against Harry's ass cheek, and said,

"Spread your cheeks, slut."

"I'm not . . . lunch . . ."

"I'm not asking."

The domineering tone in the other's boys voice was enough, and Harry obediently grabbed onto his asscheeks and spread them apart to reveal his hole to the other boy. He blushed – he had never thought about losing his virginity in this particular method. He was about to ask that Theodore go slowly, when he realised what the other boy was trying to do.

"Fuck, you're tight," said Theo, trying to force in a finger covered in his torn, cum-stained underwear.

"Virgin," grunted Harry, trying to relax at the intrusion. It stung as it hit his ring, and he was dry down there, having not been lubed. The cloth provided some moisture but it wasn't enough, and he was nipping at his lip as Theo kept trying to shove in a finger.

"That just makes this better, slut," said Theo, a dark gleam in his eye.

Only then, when Theo tried for the third time, did Harry realise what was happening. His own underwear was being forced into him, the damp fabric rubbing against his inner walls, and he squirmed as it began to fill up his tight hole. He wriggled, trying to get away, but Theo just held him firmly in place and kept jabbing until the boxer-briefs were fully ensconced within him.

"You can fucking keep that in until you go back to your room, slut, and think off me as it scrapes your prostate raw."

Harry got to his feet without a word and got dressed, watching as Theo did the same. He noticed, with a start, that Theo had removed his own underwear and stuck them into a pocket, and only when he spared the boy a curious eye did he get a response.

"I have an underwear fetish, you moron," said Theo, rolling his eyes. With that, he walked out of the cubicle, and Harry took a few moments to collect himself before following, the underwear rubbing against the inner walls of his virgin ass as he made his way to his next class.

There was one thing he did know, though, and that was that he needed to get it out, and the sooner the better. Hopefully, he'd be able to get someone to help him soon. Preferably Ron, but thinking about it, he realised he wanted something small and manageable for his first time.

He smirked. Colin Creevey it was.


End file.
